After Midnight
by LaLaLaLune
Summary: I’m really sorry guys. I’m still getting used to this system and I accidentally uploaded the unedited version of a few of the chapters. I will sort it out as soon as I can. Could it be that what began as a chance encounter after midnight could become so much more. Dramione, hurt/comfort, slow-ish burn, fluff, rated M for eventual smut. *werewolf draco*
1. Chapter One

_So this story has been through a few iterations. I initially sat down to write a silly smutty one shot involving Draco malfoys birthday and some strippers in the form of an imperiused Hermione, Luna and Ginny. (I might still write a story in that vein) _

_That all changed though when I looked up the date of Draco's birthday. Poor Draco! His 17th birthday is set at such an awful point in the cannon story line that I felt I just had to explore that. I mean poor guy! There is just soo much going on. What a shitty birthday. Anyway I began writing it as a one shot (which is now part one of 4) but it very quickly turned into a full blown story. _

_I hope you guys enjoy it. It's my very first fan fic, so please be kind._

**After Midnight part one**

**Chapter one**

"I suppose I should be lucky to be alive to have a birthday," he thought. He still hadn't managed to transfer even an apple without messing it up, and he was quickly running out of time.

In less than a month the summer holidays would start and he would be whisked home, away from his mission and back to Him.

If he failed mother would be terrified, even more so than usual, and his aunt Bellatrix would be infuriated that her sister's family had failed him yet again.

He of course would waste no time before expressing his rage that the great Draco Malfoy had wasted an entire year on clumsy mistakes and had still not completed the mission given to him. How would the dark lord punish him, he wondered. It would likely be very painful and very drawn out. "Just let him leave mother out of it" he thought "leave her alone and I'll take whatever you give me."

It was already well past twelve o'clock, nearly one. If he didn't get back to the dungeons quickly and quietly he would have the squib Filch to deal with, or worse, Snape. It seemed that these days he couldn't go to the loo without Snape showing up to help him wipe his arse.

He'd been so focused on that damn vanishing cabinet that he hadn't noticed that the curfew had been and gone several hours ago.

His body ached with tiredness, and pain from the still healing slashes inflicted by Harry. Snape had done a lot in patching him up but the cursed gashes over his chest and arms would take longer than a couple of weeks to heal.

Worse though was the pain on his wrist. He'd heard that marks like the one inflicted upon him one summer ago never really stopped hurting. It would always be there, betraying his true nature to anyone who looked upon it. Reminding him that his life now belonged to the dark lord.

He absently rubbed his wrist, wondering if the raised lines would ever lie flat again.

He sneaked down the starlit corridor, the cold light of the waxing moon bleaching the flagstones ahead. He took the time to reflect that if he managed to get another birthday next year, if he lived that long, he would throw himself the biggest party the Slytherin common room had ever seen.

If he lived that long.

_Thanks for reading guys. **Constructive **criticism would be welcome. Be nice please._


	2. Chapter Two

**After Midnight part one**

**Chapter two**

Well now you've done it, thought Hermione, glaring at her revision timetable.

"Don't save it 'til later, you big second rater" it called feebly as she slammed it shut. She looked hopelessly around the dark library. How could I have been so foolish, she thought, rubbing her tired eyes.

Exams started on Monday and she had never felt less prepared. Not even last year, when she had spent much of her OWLs revision time juggling the DA, S.P.E.W., and Ron's quidditch woes, had been this bad.

Harry was completely losing it trying to prove Draco Malfoy was up to something nefarious, and the boys quidditch had been a disaster all year. She was spending half her energy on trying to make sure they scraped passing grades. Why couldn't they put half as much energy into their school work as they did into worrying about who was going to win that silly cup?

"Haven't even been using the revision timetables I got them," she grumbled, although perhaps that was for the best, considering.

Her own timetable had been playing up recently. She'd been using it for the past two years without issue, but now its magic appeared to be running out. Just yesterday it had failed to remind her to eat any lunch until quarter past two. A minor inconvenience. Tonight however she had been so engrossed in her ancient runes textbook that she hadn't noticed (or been noticed, tucked away as she was into a dark quiet nook behind the history of magic archives) that the library had closed. The book hadn't piped up with its usual "use your head, get early to bed," and so she had read on by the light of her wand for nearly three hours after she was supposed to be back in the common room.

Hurrying to fit her books back into her bag as neatly as possible, she ran a hand through her unkempt hair. She would just have to skip lunch tomorrow. That way she would have time to catch up on her arithmancy and finish Snape's homework. She just prayed that Ron and Harry had had the good sense not to go to bed without at least starting on their transfiguration essay.

As quietly as she could Hermione tiptoed between the walls of books and out into the dark corridor, her footsteps echoing in the deserted halls.

Thank heavens for the nearly full moon, she thought. Without it she wouldn't be able to see a hand in front of her face without the light of her wand. Nothing would get her caught like brandishing a lumos charm after midnight.

At least she felt fairly confident about her ancient runes now that she had studied them for 3 hours longer that expected. Although now that she thought about it she couldn't remember whether the rune for partnership ought to be eihwaz or ehwaz. Or was it erwaz? That didn't sound right. She would have to look it up tomorrow, if she had time between transfiguration and dinner.

Suddenly she crashed into something so hard she was nearly knocked to the ground. She had walked straight into a tall dark figure, which was now clutching its face and swearing loudly.

She felt a thrill of horror. Her immediate thought was that it must be a teacher, or perhaps Filch the caretaker, patrolling the nighttime halls, but some of the more choice expletives quickly convinced her that this must be a student.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't see you and I lost track of time in the library! I'm sorry are you ok?"

"I think you broke my nose"

"I am so so sorry!" she cried, starting forward to examine the damage. "Do you need to go the the hospital wing?"

The figure slapped her hands away and continued to swear. "What the hell are you doing out here Granger?" he spat nastily, and suddenly Hermione realised who she had crashed into.

She bristled. "I could ask the same thing of you Malfoy," she said coldly, "curfew was hours ago! You should be in your common room!"

She could see him clearer now. Still holding his nose, he looked more exhausted and pale than ever in the moonlit corridor. And angry.

"I don't need you to tell me school rules!" he snapped, still holding his nose. "I am a prefect too, in case you forgot."

Hermione was about to retort when a harsh mewling reached her ears. Already knowing what she would see she turned her head slowly to see Mrs Norris Filch's cat.

As though realising she had been spotted the cat turned and stalked in the opposite direction, presumably in search of her master.

She heard Draco swear again and without warning he grabbed her wrist, yanking her down the empty hallway.

Startled by the sudden movement she shrieked loudly, nearly loosing her footing once again.

"What the hell are you doing!?" she cried. "Get off me!"

"Shut up!" he hissed. "I am not in the mood to get caught because of your clumsy ass!"

She tried to pry her hand from his grasp but he held firm, pulling her suddenly to the right into a narrow hallway. Hermione recognised it at once as the one housing the trick tapestry that she and Ginny had hidden behind after Slughorn's Christmas party, while trying to avoid Cormac Maclaggan's tipsy attentions.

Lifting the heavy fabric aside Draco slipped behind, dragging a furious Hermione with him.


	3. Chapter three

**After Midnight part one**

**Chapter three**

"What the hell are you doing?!" hissed a breathless Hermione.

Draco decided it best to ignore her and focus instead on listening for Filch's telltale shuffling wheezing, but Hermione was not done.

"How dare you! Let go of me right now!" She whispered angrily, and Draco became suddenly aware that he was still firmly holding her slim wrist. What was more, in his hurry to ensure they were both concealed behind the tapestry, he had not noticed how he had pressed his body against her, pinning her to the cold wall behind.

He quickly let go, as though burnt, and shuffled as far away from her radiating warmth as he dared.

"Be quiet! Do you want to get caught?"

Hermione appeared to calm as his hand released her, but still looked as though she might argue.

She was so annoying, he thought. As if he wanted to be crammed into this tiny alcove, barely big enough for one, with _her_ of all people. And his nose still hurt.

That last thing he needed right now was another detention. Not with summer approaching so quickly.

"What did you find my sweet?" came a distant, familiar croak. "Was it that Peeves again?"

Draco hurried to put a hand over Hermione's mouth. She started at the sudden contact but did not protest, though her dark eyes seethed with indignation.

Her lips felt soft and full against his palm, her warm breath coming out in angry little puffs. He held her gaze with his own, placing a slim pale finger over his lips.

"Is he in the transfiguration room again?" wheezed Filch, drawing closer.

Why can't he just bugger off somewhere else, he thought, wishing desperately to be in bed. He had so much to do tomorrow.

He slowly withdrew his hand from her lips, sure now that she wouldn't start complaining with Filch so close. She was annoying but not stupid.

She wriggled uncomfortably, trying perhaps to push some more space between them, her hair even more wild than usual and catching on the rough stone. He remembered how sleek and smooth she had made it for the Yule ball, all the way back in their fourth year. He had noticed of course. Everyone had noticed the mud-blood dancing with Viktor Krum. He reflected that he liked her hair better like this. More natural.

He could smell something sweet, maybe honey, coming from her unruly, dark curls.

Hermione's breath hitched as the sound of a heavy door being unlatched cut through the silence. He should probably step a bit closer, in case Filch decided to walk right by.

Hermione gasped slightly as Draco's body stepped back into contact with her own. She was incredibly warm in the night air. The castle was always cold at night, even in the June heat.

His eyes met hers again, and in them found the most peculiar searching look, and although she looked quickly away he suddenly found himself feeling quite self conscious under her gaze. He swallowed nervously, feeling quite warm himself now.

She was looking very uncomfortable, he noticed. She looked as though she hadn't slept for days. Probably been in the library all hours, he thought, remembering that exams would be happening next week. He'd forgotten.

She's too clever for her own good, he thought. Probably wants to be caught even less than I do. I wonder if she's ever got a detention before?

The rings under her eyes looked almost as bad as his must, and her golden skin had a strange, blanched quality.

The shuffling footsteps were right on the other side of the heavy cloth now. Hermione closed her eyes and raised a small shaking hand to his chest, her fingers clutching anxiously onto the rumpled fabric of his shirt.

He looked down in surprise and felt the strangest urge to take her dark hand in his...


	4. Chapter four

**After midnight part one**

**Chapter four**

Hermione was ready to spit venom she was so angry, and Draco seemed completely unfazed, shushing her like a silly little girl.

She stood impatiently, crammed into her involuntary hiding spot, and listened for any sign of an approaching Filch.

Despite his tired face bearing a plale flush of exertion, or perhaps disgust at the close proximity, his body seemed to radiate a cool air. She shivered slightly, unsure if the cold was really the cause.

She heard Filch a corridor or two over.

Without warning Draco's cool, pale hand was covering her mouth. She started in protest of the sudden violation, but Draco caught her eyes with his silver ones. He raised his finger to his pale lips.

Hermione huffed crossly, not daring to move his hand away. Instead she watched his pale, tired eyes dart away, looking sickly and desperate. She'd seen his mounting stress all year, of course, but seeing him so close she was almost pressed up against him, it struck her quite how unwell he looked.

The dark circles beneath his eyes were almost corpse-like, and his silvery eyes held a desperation she had never seen there before.

"Is he in the transfiguration classroom again" croaked Filch.

At this rate she wouldn't make it to bed before the sun came up. She quashed the temptation to tap her foot impatiently. What was he doing out of bed at this hour anyway? He hadn't come from the library, she was certain. He'd been walking in the opposite direction.

He was looking rather shabby as well, considering his usual smart elegance. His robes looked rumpled and unclean, and his hair, which she was used to seeing shining blond and perfectly set, was hanging dull and lank around his tired eyes.

Hermione felt the cool hand withdraw from her face and took a shaking breath of relief.

What would she do if she was caught? What if Filch gave her detention? He surely would. There was no excuse for her being out so late, and with Draco Malfoy of all people. Filch would probably think that they had been up to something. How on earth could she possibly pass her exams if she spent her last day to prepare cleaning bedpans or pickling rats brains?

She would fail. And if she failed this year it would definitely put her at a huge disadvantage when she got around to sitting her N.E.W.T.s next year. Would she be able to catch up? Perhaps she could take some extra credit, but would that even be enough? What was the percentage of this years exams on the final N.E.W.T.s scores? Was it 15 percent? No, that didn't sound right. Far too low.

She found her self wishing she had brought the notes she'd taken when McGonagall had explained the exams to them.

She was shaken from her frenzied musing by the sudden loud clunk of a heavy latch close by. Too close by.

Speaking of things close by, Draco appeared to be pressing her even further into their little hidey hole.

With his chest up against her she could feel just how strong and lithe he was. Almost as cool and unyielding as the wall behind her.

His unkempt clothes and messy hair did little to disguise his innate good looks. Not that she thought of him that way. After all, she told herself, it was perfectly fine for her to admire him, even if he was a selfish prat.

Why was he out so late, she wondered again. Perhaps he was on his way back from a nighttime dalliance, but if that were the case then why not do it in the comfort of his common room? After all surely any one Draco Malfoy would choose to date would be in Slytherin too. And if there was someone he was seeing where were they now? And why was he now here looking over her and not them?

Perhaps Harry was right? Maybe he was up to something unpleasant. She wouldn't put it past him. But why was he looking so very unwell?

She searched his face for some clue, feeling his cool breath play across the baby hairs on her forehead.

He turned and their eyes met again, a look of surprise flitting across his handsome face.

She looked quickly away feeling a blush rise in her cheeks. She wondered what time it was. It must be well past one o'clock by now. She thought again of all the studying she still had to do. How would she ever get it all done?

Filch's footsteps drew closer. She thought he must be just metres away from them now. Did Filch know that there was a trick tapestry here? He might do. After all he definitely knew about at least three of the school's secret passages, and hardly anyone knew about those. What if Mrs Norris could smell them, or else hear their laboured breathing with her huge ears? Would she find them and lead Filch to them? If she found them she almost certainly would, and then it would all be over. She would be given detention and she wouldn't have time to finish her revision, and then she would fail her transfiguration and arithmancy and charms exams and then she would fail her N.E.W.T.s and her parents would be so disappointed!

She could hear Filch's wheezing breath so clearly now that he might have been behind the tapestry with them.

She closed her eyes, silently praying. Her hand found Draco's hard chest, holding on for dear life.


End file.
